Charlotte Rampling

Andrew Rostan was a film student before he realized that making comics was his horrible destiny, and he’s never shaken his love of cinema. Every week, he’ll opine on current pictures or important movies from the past.

My Addison Recorder brethren know that I cry at movies too easily. Andrew Haigh’s 45 Years, one of the finest films of the year, did not make me cry. Instead, it left my body numb with an overload of emotions and memories I do not always think about or want to think about, culminating in a last five minutes that left my insides shaking like I was ascending the tallest roller coaster on Earth.